After the Inception job, Ariadne had no desire to ever meet Cobb, Arthur, Eames and everybody else involved with it again. Or so she told herself.
She returned to Paris; to her studies, her roommate, her cat, her wonderfully normal friends, who were only interested in the sort of normal things young people did to entertain themselves – parties, music, alcohol, sex - but certainly not dream-sharing or planting ideas in somebody else's head.
But Dom and Arthur had been right… those dreams were addictive. And once you'd had a taste of the poison, you would never be completely free of it again. Also, normal just didn't seem to be exciting enough for her. The people she had known and liked for years seemed dull and colorless to her now. There was an entire world out there, an enticing world of half-legal and illegal deals, of guns and chases, elaborate shams and dreams of terrifying beauty that seemed more real than anything she had seen before. A world her normal, boring contemporaries would never know about…
So when on a rainy spring evening she got a call from an unknown, foreign number, picked up and heard Eames voice, the way he drew out the words as if to fill them with illicit promises, she felt her heartbeat speed up.
"Eames! Where are you?"
He chuckled. "Does it matter?"
It didn't. Not really. Wherever he was, it was probably a lot more exciting than Paris on a rainy spring night.
"Are the others with you?"
"The others?" He sounded amused. "There are plenty of people here, dear."
"You know what I mean."
"Cobb is here… working, as always. There's no other way to drag him out of the house and away from his kids these days than by proposing a job and saying that yes, it's perfectly safe – and therefore boring. Yusuf is due to arrive tomorrow, his plane was delayed in Dubai, and he was spluttering some of the vilest curses I've ever heard when I talked to him an hour ago." Eames laughed.
"And Arthur?"
"Arthur's here alright. He's spent the last two hours searching for his totem."
"His totem? What happened?"
"Well, you see, Arthur's totem is a loaded die."
Ariadne nodded, she knew that.
"We're at the Monte Carlo Casino. You see how this could potentially be embarrassing?"
Ariadne did, and a grin spread across her face. "How… careless of Arthur to lose his totem in such a place," she replied mirthfully. "You should help him search for it."
"I will do no such thing. It's way too much fun watching him get all riled up about it."
"Eames, you're evil."
"I know. And I enjoy every minute of it… now, are you coming?"
"You want me to come to Monte Carlo?" Ariadne asked incredulously. "I've got classes tomorrow."
"So skip them. It's Friday anyway."
"Eames, I can't do that."
"Why not?"
Such a simple little question, but it had a tremendous effect.
Ariadne ended up skipping her classes and taking the red-eye flight that – surprisingly enough – had already been booked for her. Knowing Eames, though, she had made sure there was a return flight booked for Sunday night, before boarding the plane.
Eames, wearing an impeccable grey suit with a burgundy shirt and silk tie, scooped her up in a bear hug. "I missed you, little girl."
Ariadne snorted. "Yeah, right. You never bothered to call."
"I was busy."
"Uh-huh. Where's your better half?"
"Arthur would object to that term," Eames teased.
"Arthur objects to anything even remotely related to you, so that point is moot. I'm actually wondering why he's even here with you."
"I blackmailed him."
Ariadne laughed. "Silly me, I should have known." She linked arms with him and they walked to the waiting car.
"Eames, you should not have brought her here." Dom said, after he had recovered from the shock of seeing her walk into the suite.
"You don't seem happy to see me," Ariadne pouted. "I actually missed you, Cobb."
His expression softened slightly. "I just thought that you had better things to do than joining us for another half-legal venture. You've always been a serious student."
"Yes, but even serious students need to have fun sometimes, don't they?" Eames cut in with a conspiratorial wink.
Ariadne grinned.
"Ariadne."
Arthur walked in from an adjoining room, seeming bewildered, but not displeased to see her. After a quick hug, he turned to Eames. "I guess this is your doing."
Eames shrugged.
"Are you all staying here together?" Ariadne asked, thinking that that was a sure way to attract trouble, given Dom's predilection for staying up late, Yusuf's tendency to snore and the explosive chemistry between Arthur and Eames that was bound to erupt into a fight if you locked the two of them up together for too long.
"No. Absolutely not," Dom said with a visible shudder. "I can stand either Arthur or Eames, but not both of them at the same time. And I'm sure Yusuf feels much the same. " He shot the forger and point man a meaningful look.
Wait. That actually meant it was only Arthur and Eames staying together. Huh. Ariadne wondered who was the mastermind behind that arrangement (probably Eames, who took immeasurable delight in vexing Arthur…) and how it would end (quite probably with a dead or seriously maimed Eames…).
"Have you found your totem yet?" She asked Arthur.
He shook his head, scowling.
"There, there, pet," Eames said, patting his shoulder, "we'll get you a new one. I always thought something expensive and flashy would fit you better, anyway."
Arthur slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare, Eames," he warned.
Eames' grin was wide as the sky on a sunny day, making Ariadne wonder what exactly she had missed during that little exchange.
"It's unlike Arthur to simply lose his totem like that," Ariadne said to Dom as they watched the point man circle one of the gambling tables that night. "Do you think Eames pocketed it just to annoy him?"
"Not if he wants to keep all of his fingers and toes… and other body parts," Dom replied drily.
Ariadne laughed. "So they're still as bad."
"It's progressively getting worse."
"They'll end up killing each other one of these days."
"That's very likely," he agreed.
"You know, that's a weird relationship."
Dom sighed. "Watch," he said simply, and Ariadne did.
She saw Eames get up from the table where he had just won another game, gracefully wish his fellow players a nice evening and move towards the bar, where he joined Arthur. They were too far way for Ariadne to hear what they were saying, but she was pretty good at reading body language, especially when it was as expressive as Arthur's.
Eames moved up behind him, sneaking an arm around his hip, which resulted in Arthur placing a well-aimed elbow in the pit of his stomach.
Eames twisted and danced out of his way, a wounded expression on his face, that didn't fool Ariadne, and probably wouldn't fool Arthur either.
Or maybe it did, because Arthur leaned closer, with an almost concerned look, placing a hand on Eames arm. Apologizing? Probably. Arthur was polite, after all.
Eames whined, still holding his stomach and using that helpless-puppy-look he did so well. Arthur apparently fell for it, moved even closer and touched his cheek.
Huh?
They were standing close enough for a kiss or an embrace now, and Eames made a move forward that could be interpreted as leading to either or both, but Arthur was faster than him. His right hand dashed into the inner pocket of Eames' suit jacket and emerged, holding a tiny red object.
Arthur stepped back, his expression accusatory. "I knew it!"
Okay, now, that was loud enough to be heard across the room.
Eames held up his hands in surrender, but Arthur was not to be placated that easily.
Arthur, his expression outraged, said something that was probably far from complimentary and closed his hand around his totem. Ariadne remembered what he had told her upon first showing her the loaded die. It would be useless to him now.
Turning his back to Eames, the point man walked towards her and Dom, his eyes narrowed, his mouth set in a thin line.
Eames followed him.
"Uh-oh," Ariadne said. "There will be blood… why did Eames have to do that? He knows perfectly well that Arthur doesn't appreciate his sense of humor. "
"Watch," was all Dom said in reply.
Eames had by now caught up with Arthur and reached out to grab his arm. Arthur spun around, his facial expression screaming violent murder.
"Don't go there," he hissed. "That was NOT funny, Eames!"
"Yes, it was," Eames argued, still smiling fondly, and Ariadne wondered how he could remain so calm in the face of Arthur's wrath. "Now, if you would please let me explain…?"
"You've got three seconds. If it's not a sincere apology, I don't want to hear it."
"You picked the wrong pocket," Eames told him amiably.
"I… what? If this is another of your nonsensical jokes…!"
"Left pocket, darling."
"Eames, I am warning you…"
"Reach into my left pocket," Eames replied nonplussed.
Arthur looked at him with narrow eyes for a moment, as if trying to determine whether or not this was a further attempt to make fun of him, but then he did as Eames had told him to do. Eames' body was shielding them, so Ariadne could not see what Arthur pulled out of that pocket, but whatever it was, it did not appear to be to his liking, as it earned Eames nothing but a slap in the face – a hard one – and a good look at Arthur's retreating form as he stormed from the room.
Eames stood there for a minute or two, his mouth slightly opened, holding his burning cheek and looking somewhat lost, before he bent down to pick something up from the carpeted floor.
Ariadne saw a faint glitter, and it took her brain a long moment to process what this thing was.
A golden engagement ring.
"I would not advise coming anywhere near their suite tonight," Dom said matter-of-factly as they watched Eames slowly follow Arthur out of the room.
If you want to know what song was playing in my head while I was writing this chapter, I recommend listening to "Gambling Man" performed by "The Overtones". Try to watch the official video, it's rather fiitting...;)
Next one up is Yusuf, who is in for a big surprise when he knocks on the wrong door after finally making it to Monte Carlo…